High School Rivals

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When he reached the bedroom Eric curled into a ball on the bed and bit his lip. He knew he should go back to his dad, he would find him eventually. As he looked around the room Eric saw a phone, Michael must have left it there. With a shaky breath he dialed his father's number, waiting for his angered voice to answer.
 
Michael sat downstairs, his cautious eyes on the door and the window. He didn't want Eric to go back to what he had been at before. He hated the fact that he was helpless in this kind of situation. He wanted to cry, but his eyes were a long while too late for that, and they stayed dry and focused. His hands folded in his lap, but he looked to be ready to jump up any second. He would be ready for the man to show up.
 
When he was done talking Eric hung up and hoped that he had done the right thing. Hopefully his father would just take out all the anger on him and not Michael. Michael didn't deserve any of it, all he did was try to help. Eric sat up and slowly went down stairs. "I'm going to go for a walk." He said softly when he saw Michael.
 
Michael sighed gently as he looked at Eric. "If you really think that's safe, then you go and do that." He said as he walked away from Eric. He had a feeling what was going to happen, and he knew he had no way of saving the other male. "But get out of there when you turn 18." He said as a greeting, waving as he went up to his room. He wasn't really angry at Eric, mostly at himself, really. And then Eric's father. But Eric shouldn't be blamed for going back.
 
Eric looked at Michael and just didn't know what to do. He didn't trust him yet. Eric knew going back to his father was stupid, but at least he knew what to expect there, he knew that he would be punished, but he was used to that.

"I have to go back. I'm all he has." Eric whispered.
 
"Then get him to stop. If you're all he has, he should treat you preciously." Michael didn't say anything else, and didn't lift a finger to stop Eric. "I'm not your dad. I'm not going to stop you by force. I want you to stay, more than anything. But if you absolutely won't listen to me and I would have to use force, I will not do anything."

Michael's smile turned sad. "Because I love you too much to see you hurt by my own hands."
 
Eric bit his lip and turned away from Michael. Maybe he could change his father. He took a deep breath before opening the door and starting to walk out to where he said he would meet his father.
 
Michael slammed his fist so hard into the table that blood formed on his knuckles, but he didn't even seem to be in the least bit of pain. His body sank to the floor, and he stayed there, still as the grave. No. He'd lost it again. Something important.
 
He was already there waiting and Eric looked at the ground as he walked into the car.

"I knew you wouldn't be gone for long." His father said with a laugh before hitting his back. "You know that you can't run from me, it isn't worth trying."

Eric just nodded and looked in front of him, at the road.
 
Michael broke down on the floor there, and it took hours before he sat up again. He washed off the blood numbly in the sink, the stinging pain not seeming to reach his body. After that, he took a knife from the kitchen drawer, gently letting the blade sink into his skin over and over. Soon enough, dizziness captured him and he fell onto the floor with a loud thump.

He hoped for all in the world that this would be the last thing he lost...
 
The next day was long and full of pain. Eric was left in a pile on the floor, curled up to try to protect his vital organs. His father had left early though and was gone. He wouldn't be home for awhile, which would allow Eric to start healing.
 
When the guards outside had found him, they had called an ambulance immediately. He'd sliced himself not only in his wrists, but also his stomach and even his neck. The cuts weren't that deep, but they were nasty and if all of them added up, he might die... he was brought to the hospital immeidately to be treated, and soon enough he was in a white bed, unconscious with a face as pale as a sheet. He looked like he was already dead.
 
Eric made his way to the bathroom, having to crawl and drag himself there. When he finally started washing away the blood he realized his stiches had come out and the blood was flowing. He knew that couldn't be good and that it was a serious issue.

With only slight hesitation he reached for his cell and called an ambulance. He told them someone had broken into his home and beat him up, which explained his bruises and cuts.

As they drove him to the hospital Eric felt himself go under, not worried about much since he knew doctors were close to him.
 
If Michael was already dead, he didn't really mind it. Being dead was very dull, dull and boring. But at least no one he loved got hurt if he wasn't alive. If he wasn't there to hurt people, he wouldn't have to feel pain either. This dull feeling of nothingness was much better.

But soon enough, he woke up, bandages all over his body. Around his stomach, on his neck and on his arm where he had cut. The person who had found him came inside and talked to him.

He couldn't say a word, unable to explain why he had done it. His reasons weren't okay. He had told himself that from the start. He was selfish.
 
After a few hours Eric woke up and the nurses explained how they had fixed him up. He gave her a weak smile and asked if he could go for a walk. His muscles seemed stiff and he didn't want to be in the room if his father found out. She agreed reluctantly and helped him out of bed, leading him down the hallway.
 
The door was open as they talked, and all there was from Michael was a seemingly eternal silence. When he finally broke, he slammed his injured hand into the bedside table harshly as he stared into the bed sheet. "I couldn't save him!! The only person I've ever loved, and I couldn't save him!!! There's no doubt that he hates me now!!" Michael yelled as he stared at his hand that was starting to bleed.
 
As they passed a door Eric frowned. The voice sounded a lot like Michael. "I... I don't hate you." He said softly, not sure if Michael could hear. "What the hell are you doing in here?" He asked louder, frowning at his broken figure.
 
Michael stared at Eric as he came in, and he had his fears confirmed. He clutched his arm and looked away. "It's not something nearly as horrible as what you're here for." He simply said, not wanting to go deeper in what he had done to himself.
 
Eric looked at the ground and leaned against the wall. "He left. I don't know where he went, but I think he'll be gone for awhile." Eric said softly, biting his lip. He was feeling bad about leaving the place Michael had taken him to.
 
"I-I see." Michael said as he looked down. This situation was awkward. He clenched his arm, though not hard enough for it to start bleeding again, as if Eric's eyes were staring through the bandages at the wounds he had inflicted on his own body.
 
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